


( fox in the henhouse )

by Acacius



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coran really has become the weepy uncle, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Lotor-centric, Multi, Season 4's made me a lotor stan, also i love found family tropes so yeahhh, also idk about pairings yet. we'll see as this fic goes on, and pairings would be in the background unless it was lotor lol, basically this is an imagining of season 5 w/ lotor now on the team, mostly gen w/ some fluff and angst intermixed, really excited to explore how lotor would act w/ the paladins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-01-18 23:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12398016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acacius/pseuds/Acacius
Summary: A series of snippets detailing Lotor’s ever-evolving relationship with the paladins as a new defender of the universe. Chapter 5: Lotor and Keith go on a routine mission. It ends up being far from routine.





	1. Leisure Time

In the beginning, Lotor hadn’t even bothered to learn their names. In his opinion, respect was something that was earned and while the paladins had been worthy adversaries… their behavior off the battlefield was perplexing at best. 

Take for instance his first night in the castle. While they did not hide their suspicions, they did not immediately take him into their custody as a prisoner either. He had waited for the inevitable—to be shackled, isolated in some supposedly inescapable room, and interrogated (perhaps even tortured) until they could, without a doubt, trust his intentions. But, that never happened. 

The yellow one lead him through the halls of the castle, muttering about how it would be just his luck to lose an 8-way game of rock-paper-scissors, before stopping at a room at the end of the hall. The door slid open soundlessly, revealing an empty, though pristine room furnished only with a cot, a single set of drawers, and had an adjoining bathroom. 

His nervousness was apparent even before he spoke, gaze darting to and fro, never once meeting Lotor’s eyes. “So uh, Prince Lotor? Or is just Lotor fine? Anyway, here’s your room. Since you were kinda running from the entire Galra empire and stuff, I doubt you packed anything with you. Here’s an extra pair of pajamas I took from Lance—if Galra even wear pajamas. Toothbrush and other toiletries should already be in the bathroom. Bye.” 

He had shoved the clothing into Lotor’s hands without another word, practically sprinting to what Lotor assumed to be his room, a few doors down. 

A moment later, he saw the green, red, and blue paladins dart from their own rooms, all barging into the yellow paladin’s room. The blue one had actually given a wave, while the other two merely regarded Lotor with thinly veiled wariness. 

All in all, the behavior was confusing at best. They did not trust him, but they strove to make him feel welcomed. Like he was one of them. A fine strategy indeed… if trusting him wasn’t a gamble that could end in bloodshed if Lotor so desired. Here he was, a fox in the henhouse, unguarded and given free reign. Perhaps it was the Galra blood in him that made the thought enticing, imagining the paladins’ downfall coming from within. 

But it had been a long night for the ex-prince. From braving the heat of a star to saving the paladins themselves from a painful demise, Lotor merely retired to his room. There would be time to plan and scheme, and even if the ‘pajamas’ as the yellow one had called them were quite comfortable and the bed somehow softer than even his own back on his ship, he fell asleep with the belief that he would wake up and machinate some grandiose plan to retake the power and authority that was stolen from him. 

Yet, time passed, and he still hadn’t harmed a single hair on any of the paladins. 

If anything, he had learned to tolerate their existence. They were new, novel stimuli to observe and take stock of. He had an unabashed view into the very people his father had sworn to destroy. Lotor took some pride in seeing the black lion, the beast Zarkon so coveted, which he could visit at any time in the hangar. He even trained with the paladins from time-to-time, especially sparring and aiding in the red one’s swordsmanship skills. 

It was right after one of their impromptu training sessions that Lotor heard a knock at his door. With his hair sloppily pulled into a ponytail and workout attire consisting of another paladin’s hand-me-downs (the black paladin, specifically), he called for the person to enter while he busied about the room. 

“Hey Lotor, I just ran into Keith! Heard you guys had an awesome training sesh. Think I can join in sometime?” The blue paladin asked, plopping down onto one of the chairs in the corner as if he always hung out in Lotor’s room. 

“I do not see a problem with it as long as you do not cause any distractions.” Lotor supplied, taking a long draught of water. 

The boy fist-pumped the air. “Hah, Pidge owes me ten bucks!” 

“Glad I could help you in attaining human currency, I assume.” 

“Yeah, thanks man! Hey, since you’re free right now, do you wanna go on a mission with me?” 

Lotor crossed his arms. “Only if there is something to be gained.” 

…

The blue paladin—Lance, he now supplied without much preamble—was much more shrewd than he originally gave him credit for. 

“This activity is… just for leisure?” 

Lance nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! You ‘gain’ relaxation which is always something we need with the whole ‘gotta save the universe’ stuff going on 24/7. Oh, but I also heard that video games can increase your dexterity, so there’s that too.” 

He handed Lotor the controller before setting up the game, leaving the half-Galra to stare in mild amusement as the screen loaded. 

“I heard talk of video games among the barracks, but it never interested me. Why waste time on something so trivial? Real adrenaline can be found easily in the gladiator ring or through piloting.” 

“Just wait man, you’ll be hooked in no time.” 

For once in his life, Lotor didn’t bother to keep track of the time. Despite the beginning awkwardness of using a controller with his sharp nails, he got into a rhythm thanks to Lance’s enthusiastic coaching. After learning the controls and given a brief introduction into what he called the ‘lore’ of the game, Lotor began what would be his rapid descent into video games. 

Before long he was able to play as Lance’s second, aiding in a ‘dungeon-crawl’ as he called it. With rapt attention, Lotor followed his character’s actions on the screen, summoning up a maelstrom to deal a significant amount of damage to the final boss, an undead dragon. 

“One more blow should silence the beast. Use your strongest melee attack now, Lance!” 

“Got it!” 

The screen exploded with confetti as the dragon gave its last roaring breath, allowing the pair to pick up the loot from its skeletal remains. 

“A dragon-forged long sword, finally!” Lance cheered, equipping the item immediately. 

Lotor was pleased to find a mage’s circlet, one also dragon-forged, which would increase his sorcerer’s defense tenfold. So lost in the celebration after what was around a ten-hour campaign, they both stood, backs cracking at the movement before Lotor was seized into the tightest hug of his life. 

“We did it, man! God, I was never able to beat the boss, even with Hunk playing! You’re way too good at video games already. It’s not fair, haha!” 

Lotor’s first instinct was to still, right hand hovering over the dagger he kept sheathed at his side. Physical intimacy was rare for Galra and Lotor couldn’t shake the feeling that he should protect himself in some way. A flash of _something_ from his childhood, from a time before Zarkon’s bloodlust, flitted across his vision and he found himself hugging back, however briefly. It was really just a touch of Lance’s back, clawed hand settling briefly before he pulled away. 

It was then that the door to Lance’s room slid open, suddenly flooding the room with light. Lance and Lotor shielded their eyes, turning away from the door. The entire population of the castle stood, near-gawking, at the screen and the two figures huddled away from the light. 

Hunk was the first to break the silence with laughter. “Told you, Allura, Lance wasn’t in any danger. Lotor’s pretty cool, actually.” He paused, finally noticing what was on the screen. “Seriously, you two beat the game without me? Not cool!” 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. “He’s alright.” 

“I guess we really were worried about nothing.” Shiro said. He followed Corran back out to the lounge. 

Matt and Pidge smirked at each other, both sneakily taking photos of the scene before darting out of the room. 

Allura sighed. Still, she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Glad you two are having fun. When you’re ready to return to the land of the living, let me know. I need some help with planning the next mission... Lotor. If you don’t mind.” 

Lotor gave a sharp grin. “It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternate title: lotor is confused by kindness, gets addicted to video games, and is so unused to physical intimacy that he almost stabs lance lmao 
> 
> all jokes aside, hope you guys enjoyed the start of this fic! this is really just an excuse for me to have an outlet for my new found love of lotor tbh. 
> 
> anyway, if you have any ideas for situations/scenarios you wanna see lotor explore w/ the paladins just lemme know in the comments. i'd love any feedback and/or suggestions! 
> 
> and thanks, of course, for reading!


	2. The Duality of a Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternate title: lotor has a trip to angstville™, drinks a milkshake, and gets pulled into texting shenanigans.

Another nightmare. The seventh in so many nights. He should have been used to them by now, yet… 

Lotor rolled to his side, as if that would somehow banish the apparition of Narti that continued to plague him in his sleep and waking life. The decision to end her life (murder, his brain supplied. It was murder) had been quick, born out of necessity and pain. It was an action solely fueled by _emotion_ , a far cry from Lotor’s usual strategic and analytical mindset. 

(and still, if he focused hard enough, he could recall exactly which parts of his blade had been stained by Narti’s blood. it was almost as haunting as the guilt that churned in his gut when he had nothing to distract himself from ruminating upon his own failures.) 

He was the best strategist the Galra Empire had, but the thought that one of his generals would betray him had never even crossed his mind. He’d been so damn naïve. He was a skilled orator, knew how to bend anyone to his cause, and valued loyalty above all else. Fitting, really, that betrayal would be his downfall. 

How long had she been a spy? Was it when he first assembled his crew, handpicked half bloods that didn’t quite fit in? A crew composed of runaways, dissenters, those who didn’t look how a Galra should look or thought how a Galra should think. Misfits who he thought could understand him—but here he was now, floating in a ship piloted by humans and Alteans, the greatest enemies to the Galra’s domination of the universe. 

With a sigh, Lotor rose from his bed to enter the bathroom. He quickly splashed water on his face, observing his own weathered features. Just for a moment, he let the glamor disappear, let the magic he inherited from his mother slip away to reveal his true self. His skin became a dark tan, like his mother’s, the yellow of his sclera fading into a milky white. His blue eyes remained, the only vestige of his true appearance that he carried over. Even his hair took on a more blue-ish tone. Besides his sharp canines and claws and lack of Altean markings, his true appearance was nearly a mirror to Honerva. Or at least he thought as much, from the holograms and recordings he’d seen of her. 

Knowing full well that attempting to fall back asleep would be nothing but a fruitless endeavor, Lotor quietly left his room to wander the halls of the castle, no real destination in mind. His feet led him to the kitchen of all places, keen ears picking up the chatter of two familiar paladins. 

“L-Lotor? H-Hey man. What’cha doing up so late?” Hunk, still weary and possibly frightened by the ex-prince, took a few steps away from him, resting his arms upon the kitchen island. 

Pidge snorted. “Geeze Hunk, if he was planning to kill us he’d have done it by now. Relax.” She turned her gaze to Lotor. “Want a midnight milkshake?” 

Lotor cocked his head to the side, folding his arms. “…Milkshake? This is some form of human nourishment, I presume?” 

The green paladin grinned, extending her milkshake to Lotor. “Yeah, something like that. Try it. If you like it, we’ll make you one. Won’t we, Hunk?” She nudged her still cowering companion. 

“O-of course! Whatever you want, man!” 

Lotor nodded, taking the concoction with a somewhat apprehensive look. It appeared harmless enough. The mixture was white, intermixed with tiny, multicolored rods. A red straw poked through the semi-liquid and it was only when Pidge gave an enthusiastic nod of encouragement that he took a sip. 

He closed his eyes, taking an even bigger gulp. Sugar flooded his system, a far cry from the usual dietary rations of the Galra Empire. Dried meats and filling carbohydrates saturated their diet, the need for cheap, long-lasting fuel that wouldn’t spoil greater than anything as frivolous as taste or variety. Lotor couldn’t recall the last time he had something so sweet and before he realized it, half of the human concoction was gone. 

“You might wanna slow down, you could get a—“ Pidge started, only to have the half-Galra’s face twist into displeasure, placing the glass onto the counter. 

“It feels like my brain is frozen. Did you poison me?” 

“Press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. I heard that helps.” Hunk offered, not actually answering his question. 

Lotor obeyed, confusion turning to awe as the pain ebbed away. “That was…”  


“A brain-freeze. Not literally, of course. Not poison, either. It’s just your brain reacting to the sudden sensory overload of cold. Oh well, guess I can add this to my ‘Galra weaknesses list.’ Thanks for being a good sport, Lotor.” Pidge, whose eyes could not be seen due to the glare of her glasses, gave him a quick pat on the shoulder (reaching up on her toes) before tugging Hunk with her. To Lotor’s credit, he did not pull away from the touch, even if he had, only moments before, assumed the two paladins were trying to poison him.

“You can have Hunk’s milkshake if you want since we’ve got work to do. It’s chocolate, but hopefully you’ll like it too. Just drink them slow and you won’t have a problem. And if you need us, we’ll be in the lab!” 

Left alone, Lotor eyed the two milkshakes, debating the pros and cons in his head. It was delicious even if it did cause him some pain to drink it—and it would be such a shame to waste them. Picking up the vanilla milkshake, he proceeded to take smaller, more spaced-out sips, unaware of the pair who crept around the corner, taking photos. 

The tiny paladin had always been one of the easier paladins to converse with. She was always blunt and honest, was ready to discuss any sort of scientific phenomenon with Lotor, and had a sense of wit about her that was oddly endearing. He had assisted the trio (Pidge, Hunk, and Matt) with understanding the intricacies of Galra tech while they had taught him about human tech. 

His favorite invention of humanity, as of late, was the cellphone—which, somehow, Pidge had a spare she kindly let Lotor keep. As he finished up the chocolate milkshake, he felt the device in his pocket buzz. Reading the notification, a sly grin slipped across his face, sharp canines exposed.  


…

Pidge scrolled through the burst of photos she had taken before settling on one to send to the group chat. 

**[pidge]:** changed the name from **(defenders of the universe)** to **(defenders of the universe AND lotor now i guess)**

 **[pidge]:** we’ve hit a milestone, folks. here you’ll find a wild Lotor in his natural habitat… enjoying a milkshake with a grin on his face. you can barely see it, but it’s there, i swear. hunk can back me up. 

**[hunk]:** yep!! he’s definitely smiling—and not that creepy, ‘i might be planning ur murder in my head’ smile. it’s actually kinda nice. minus the fangs ^^’ 

**[shiro]:** *black heart emoji* Good job, you two. 

**[lance]:** STOP TEXTING AT 1 IN THE MORNING!!!!! SOME OF US NEED OUR BEAUTY SLEEP!! *a string of nonsensical emoji’s that most likely mean something, but are indecipherable to everyone but lance* 

**[keith]:** …In your case you’d probably need to sleep for awhile. Like a 10 year coma or something. 

**[pidge]:** OOOOOOOH

 **[hunk]:** MY 

**[pidge]:** QUIZNAK 

**[hunk]:** HE

 **[pidge]:** WENT 

**[hunk]:** THERE

(lotor was added to the group chat)

**[shiro]:** Be nice, guys. And get some sleep. We’ve got training in the morning. 

**[lance]:** ASJFSDLJ THAT’S WHAT I’M TRYING TO DO !!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

**[keith]:** calm down, Lance. I can hear you stomping around all the way from my room. 

**[lotor]:** You do realize someone added me to this messaging system, don’t you?

 **[allura]:** You’re welcome :) 

**[pidge, hunk, shiro, lance, and keith]:** ALLURA?!!!!!

 **[lotor]:** In the Galra Empire, such a breach in privacy would result in your immediate deaths. However, I am feeling quite generous as of late. I may be persuaded to not serve your heads on a platter to my father in a final effort to salvage our relationship. 

**[lance]:** Come on, Lo-Lo, lay off the jokes. You wouldn’t do anything to us! ….Right? *3 crying emoji’s*

 **[lotor]:** Originally, there was no genuine malice to my words, but address me as Lo-Lo again and a horrible fate will befall what you hold dearest to your heart, blue paladin. 

**[lance]:** YOU WOULDN’T DARE!!!!!! 

**[lotor]:** I nearly flew into a star to escape my father. Do. Not. Test. Me. Paladin. Your gaming console will bend easily to my blade. 

**[pidge]:** ummm okay, this has been fun and all, but please tell me you guys hear that alarm too.

 **[shiro]:** Everyone, meet at the hangar. Time to get to work. We could really use your help, Lotor.

 **[lotor]:** I am already at the hangar. Hurry up, lest I take one of your precious lions as my own…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a headcanon that lotor doesn’t know that haggar is honerva, but she was the one who raised him, hence his ability to glamor/appear more like a Galra than he really is. since keith is a half-galra and looks very un-galra like, i like to imagine that galra traits are kinda more recessive than most traits i.e., genotypes & phenotypes and stuff y’all. also, how are they using their cell-phones in space?? *shrugs* idk man. there are canonly alternate universes in this series so if those exist than i'm sure everyone could figure out how to get their cell-phones to work in space. 
> 
> thanks again for reading!! :D everyone’s ideas and comments have been amazing!! please keep sending them in—you guys are /so/ good at suggestions!!


	3. Somewhere to Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lotor has a training session with keith and lance, takes a nap in the lounge, and wakes up to a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look who managed 2 updates back to back?? idk what the uploading schedule will be for this fic bc i have the time-management skills of a blind walrus, but i'll try my best to add a chapter a week so long as i have inspo. anyway, hope u guys enjoy this chap!!

“Nice try, paladins. But you’ll need to work harder than that if you wish to defeat me.” Lotor said, evading attack after attack with practiced ease. He embellished each movement with grace and poise, long hair whipping across his shoulders with every step. He soon became a blur on the training deck, approaching Keith and Lance head-on, even as they activated their bayards. 

“Hold still for a sec, would ya? You’re practically teleporting around!” Lance fired shot after shot, aiming with keen precision that would have struck his target—if it were anyone but Lotor. 

“Keep pushing him into the corner, Lance. We need to decrease his mobility.” Keith took the chance to rush the half-Galra, thrusting his sword forward. The bayard missed Lotor’s shoulder by centimeters, leaving Keith completely open for attack. 

With a tempered smirk, Lotor elbowed Keith in the gut, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before he could let out a groan, Lotor was upon him, blade poised directly over his heart. 

“This would have been your death—“ Lotor was interrupted by a shot from Lance, which he only barely deflected with his sword. Lotor’s eyes narrowed as he dodged the next round of volleys from Lance, flipping up into the air to land soundlessly behind the sharpshooter. 

All it took was a swift kick to his back to send Lance flying forward, colliding with Keith who had just regained his footing. The pair rolled across the training deck in a tangled mess of limbs. They devolved into hushed bickering as Lotor, amused and in fairly good spirits, allowed the two to have their moment. This was why he chose the red and blue paladins, after all, to spar with him two against one—they were simultaneously the best and worst at working together, but had the potential to be near unstoppable on the battlefield if they could only focus on the task at hand. 

“Nice one, Lotor!” Pidge called out from across the deck where the rest of the castle inhabitants sat, watching the battle with rapt attention. Hunk and Shiro were sharing some sort of Altean snack while Allura and Coran stood, observing the sparring match with the sort of analytical fascination expected of a race that gave their children daggers as one of their first coming-of-age gifts. Matt was busy recording the match, hoping to use the data to better rank the paladins (and Lotor) in terms of physical prowess. 

So far, from the training sessions he’d been privy to, Hunk had the greatest raw physical strength, though his agility left much to be desired. Pidge was the best at improvisation and adapting to her environment, but lacked stamina. Lance, of course, was the sharpshooter of the group, whose keen marksmanship made up for his recklessness. Similarly, Keith too had issues with recklessness, often leaving himself open for attack in favor of ending battles quickly with single, damaging blows. Shiro’s data showed he was excellent in hand-to-hand combat—a perfect soldier. His only real weaknesses were the bouts of paralyzation that came from what Matt realized was severe trauma. It was easy to connect the dots, from analyzing the old training recordings from when the five paladins first started piloting the lions, to the quiet way in which Shiro sometimes retreated to his room and wouldn’t answer even to Matt knocking, to the way he looked at his own Galra arm, reliving his own personal horrors.

And as for Lotor… he was as much a wild card as Shiro was. The only thing Matt knew for sure was that Lotor was still holding back in the matches and had stamina beyond anyone else on the ship. There wasn’t yet enough data for him to come up with a plausible weakness, but from his brief interactions with Lotor, Matt imagined it would probably be more of a psychological weakness, such as his own arrogance. 

Lance glowered in Pidge’s direction, sticking out his tongue. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be rooting for us?” 

“I’d be rooting for Lotor too if I were in her place. Come on, we need to focus. The battle’s not over yet.” Keith urged, helping Lance to his feet. They nodded at each other before Keith rushed forward. Lance stepped back, pointing the laser gun to where he calculated Lotor would move next. 

Keith aimed for Lotor’s abdomen, metal clashing against metal as Lotor parried the attack, jumping back to distance himself from the red paladin. It was just as his feet touched the ground that he felt a jolt of pain at his side. 

“I got a hit! Oh my quiznak, did you guys see that? I totally hit Lotor—“ His cry of disbelief soon turned into surprise when Lotor, with a growl, pulled out a smaller dagger from his belt and threw it, purposefully missing Lance by only a hair’s breadth. The dagger whizzed past Lance and dug itself deep into the wall behind him. 

“Hey now, don’t damage the castle! We don’t have the funds to fix much of anything at the moment!” Coran bellowed from the stands, going so far as to pull the dagger out of the wall to stamp a strip of duct-tape (courtesy Hunk) against the near-crater the force of Lotor’s throw caused. 

“Do not take victory in your attacks until your opponent is subdued or dead, paladin.” Lotor sighed. “This has been entertaining to say the least, but I think it’s time we finished this match. I hope you two have said your goodbyes to the team.” 

“Whoa, wait, wait, wait,” Lance started, raising a hand. “What do you mean goodbye? You said this would be just a friendly training session!” 

Lotor did not respond, merely rushing forward to grab Lance by the nape of his uniform, slamming him down onto the floor. Keith rushed forward, just as Lotor knew he would. When he was finally in range, Lotor merely pointed his blade forward, stopping Keith in his tracks as the cold metal scraped his Adam’s apple. 

“This is a Galra’s definition of a friendly training session. It is seen as a mercy to kill your opponent quickly. I would have let Keith watch as I crushed your skull underneath my foot before slitting his throat.” Lotor turned his gaze back to the open-mouthed crowd. “If you cannot best me in combat, you will never truly destroy my father or that witch, Haggar. And a true era of peace cannot begin until they are gone.” 

Lance and Keith shared a nervous look. It was easy to forget that Lotor grew up with the expectation that only the powerful deserved to survive. But sometimes, the feral, violent side of the man would peek through past his aristocratic and prideful veneer. It was still shocking all the same to see the duality of Lotor—of a man who could play videogames with such enthusiasm and get a brain freeze from milkshakes while also being able to describe how he would cruelly kill his opponents. 

Lotor sheathed his sword, offering a hand to Lance. The blue paladin took it with a groan, cradling the back of his head. A flash of concern crossed Lotor’s face, but quickly disappeared in favor of annoyance as Lance wrapped an arm around both Lotor and Keith’s shoulders. Almost immediately, the heavy atmosphere that encircled the trio began to dissolve. “That was a great match, guys! But man am I glad you’re on our side, Lotor.” 

The ex-prince pushed Lance’s arm away, but continued to walk beside him. “Merely a few weeks ago I would have killed all of you without a single afterthought. I might have even enjoyed it.” Lotor turned to look at the two paladins with a quizzical look. “What? This is war. It’s kill or be killed. And I cannot die until my plans come to fruition.” 

“…You’re what most would call brutally honest, dude.” 

“Yeah. And I thought I was bad at working as a team.” Keith added, running a hand through his messy locks. “Still, like Lance said, I’m glad we were able to come to a truce. To become… friends.” There was a hesitance in Keith’s voice as he offered a bottle of water to Lotor. 

“I’m glad too.” Lotor said, lips upturning ever so slightly. He took the water with a murmur of thanks before his face was unreadable once more. 

…

After a brisk shower, Lotor found himself growing bored of his room. Needing a change of scenery, he brought his book on war strategies (borrowed gratefully from the castle’s expansive library) to the lounge. 

It was oddly quiet. Though he had no doubts that even the ever-rambunctious paladins needed some time to themselves to relax, Lotor had never actually seen the lounge empty. Usually there would be at least one person—Lance lounging around in his pajamas and facemask, Keith reading or listening to music, Shiro pacing about, Pidge working on some new gadget with Hunk and Matt in tow, and Allura and Coran planning out the next round of diplomatic meetings. 

Never did Lotor think he’d grow to miss their noisiness. It went to show just how routine living in the castle with what were once his sworn enemies had become. Clearing his throat, Lotor sat in the center of the half-circle sofa before starting to read. Without the extra background noise and distractions, he found himself reading much faster than usual, but he could also feel the beginnings of the spindles of sleep. The telltale signs were there: his eyelids were growing heavy, he was growing increasingly unable to stiffen his yawns, and the sofa was looking more and more tempting. He really did need to get some sleep… 

Taking one more glance around the empty room, Lotor placed his book on the far end of the sofa, using the remaining space to stretch out. Before long, he was asleep, curled in the middle of the sofa, all his worries and concerns melting away in the blissful darkness that sleep provided. Sleeping out in the open was never something he would have dared to do at the Galra Headquarters, not with all the Galra who saw his status as Zarkon’s son as something to be envious about or the enemies he had made climbing the ranks on his own merits. But here, for the first time in as long as he could remember, Lotor felt something akin to peace. 

…

It was much later when he awoke. The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was that someone had draped a blanket over him and dimmed the lights. He then noticed that a pillow that had also been placed underneath his head—a feat, really, given how light a sleeper he was. Sitting up, Lotor searched in the dark for his book, finding it to be closed with a familiar bookmark marking his place. 

It was Shiro’s of all people, one of the paladins who he thought trusted him the least. On the front of the book was a note. 

_Lotor,_

__

_You looked like you could really use some sleep, so I tried my best not to wake you. The pillow and blanket are extras I found so you can keep them if you want. You also missed dinner, but Hunk left your plate in the kitchen. I hope you slept well. Oh, and thank you for taking the time to train with Keith and Lance. They’ve really improved under your guidance._

_-Shiro_

_P.S. I hope we get the chance to spar one-on-one sometime. I know I could use some tips too._

_P.S.S. Please don’t kill Matt and Pidge. They might have taken photos of you while you were asleep. I ran into them in the hall and told them where you were. Sorry, I should know better with those two._

As Lotor read the note, he felt himself smiling again for the second time that day. 

“I think I finally understand how you all defeated Zarkon the first time…” 

Feeling quite refreshed, the ex-prince went to return his belongings to his room before heading down the corridor once more. He had to pay the nosy Holt siblings an unexpected visit, it seemed. Who knew humans would have such horrible manners. Still, despite it all, Lotor’s smile grew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u guys so much for the support so far!! ur all angels, i swear <333 hmu if u have any other ideas for the fic or just wanna keysmash the keyboard w/ me! i also just made a sideblog on tumblr for voltron so come say hi @blve-lion if ya want :D


	4. Surprise After Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor vlogs, helps pull down floating furniture with Pidge, and is surprised yet again by the paladins.

Lotor stared blankly into the camera, arms crossed against his chest. “And how exactly will this _vlog_ be of any benefit?” 

Coran’s voice echoed in the chamber, launching into a rant with his usual brand of gusto. “It’s for future paladins! We need to document important points of time for those who come after us. Besides, it would be good to have the viewpoint of someone who was once on the opposite side of the war—and everyone loves a good sinner redeemed story! You’ll be immortalized as one of the first Galra to join the ranks of the coalition, not counting well, the entirety of the blade of Marmora… Anyway, just say whatever comes to mind! I trust you’ll make us proud!” A click could be heard as he turned off the communicator, giving the half-Galra some semblance of privacy, even if it was possible for anyone on board the ship to listen to the recording. 

Lotor sighed, turning his attention to the camera yet again. “This still seems like wasted effort, but I will play along. For now.” He drummed his fingers against the table, pausing only momentarily to adjust the microphone. “I am Lotor, ex Pro Tem of the Galra Empire. My father, the ruler of the empire, wants me killed. I have always been nothing to him—just dirt upon his boot, if you will. Now, I’ve become something more: a liability. For once, my father cares about what I am doing and where I am—if only to kill me. He’d want nothing more than to see the light leave my eyes, knowing he can finally be rid of the final vestige of his past.” 

He gave a hollow chuckle. “To make matters worse, I am stuck relying upon a dysfunctional group of human children who have somehow commandeered the greatest weapon in the universe. It is laughable how thoroughly screwed I am—another human saying that I’ve grown to like. There are plenty more euphemisms for derogatory behavior for humans than the Galra language has. I guess we are a… blunt folk. No need for pomp or ceremony. We say what we think. Manipulation by words is seen as akin to a dirty second-hand trick. Brute strength is the currency of rulers for the Galra… something I knew I could never accomplish. My heritage makes me smaller than most, leaner, faster. But certainly not strong. I can at least thank my mother for my sharp tongue and brilliant mind. And, I guess I must also thank the paladins for their strange brand of hospitality. I have learned much in my time here, more than I would ever have learned about these strange beings known as humans. Even trivial things such as video games and milkshakes are somehow novel and entertaining with this raucous group. I think I might even be feeling the first real stirrings of friendship… of something stronger than camaraderie built by the shared need to survive. So, despite everything, I cannot say I made the wrong decision to join their ranks. ” 

This time, a warm, genuine smile crossed his face. As if remembering where he was and what he was doing, Lotor shook his head, purposefully biting the inside of his cheek to steel himself. “I think I have rambled enough. Know this, future members of this haphazard coalition: the best teacher is experience. Nothing can blot out 10,000 years of backwards thinking and aggression. It will take time to sway more Galra to your side. Be patient, learn to think the way we Galra do… and, if necessary, kill whatever stands in your way. This is war. A moment’s hesitation can cost you your life.”  


…

  
It seemed as if a day of rest was not in Lotor’s future. Moments after returning to his quarters, he heard a flurried series of knocks at his door. The intensity of said knocks increased until he pushed the button that made the door slide open. It was the green paladin, alone for once, who ended up sprawled on the floor, having fallen due to her forward momentum.

Pidge glared at Lotor, rubbing her forehead. “Ouch… man, I thought you weren’t even in here. Why’d you take so long to answer?” 

Lotor shrugged. “I wanted some time alone. But, given the sheer intensity of your knocking, I imagined whoever it was needed me for something important. This is important, isn’t it?” 

“It is! Remember that cleaning robot me and Matt and Hunk were making?” 

“…Unfortunately.” Lotor shivered at the thought. The mechanical beast was hand-programmed by the trio, and given their different personalities, the robot was near unpredictable. Sure, it had only a few settings and jobs it could perform, but somehow, depending on the time of day and who was doing the ordering, the robot’s personality shifted. He had made the mistake of asking the robot for help tidying his room once. When he returned only ten ticks later, the mechanical death trap had turned his sparse, organized room into something nearly unrecognizable. It had taken Lotor three days to reorganize everything, which included re-shelving his books, unsticking his mattress from the ceiling, stealing Matt’s reading lamp since his was not reparable (he did still owe the Holt siblings some payback for all their photo-taking shenanigans), and cleaning what appeared to be three layers of black tar splattered across his bathroom. 

“Well, it malfunctioned again. I found it inside Allura’s room—and all her stuff is somehow floating? I’m too short to reach everything so I need someone tall to help me bring stuff down. I would ask Shiro, but he’s busy distracting Allura for me. Please, Lotor? If Allura sees her room like this she’ll kill me.” To add to the theatrics, Pidge stuck out her lower lip, looking up at the half-Galra with what Lotor had been informed was called puppy-dog eyes. 

He sighed. “If we finish with this quickly, I might get some light reading in—so fine. I will assist you.” A flash of something crossed his features a moment later that had Pidge shrinking back in fear. “However, I do require that you assist me with something after. It’s only fair.” 

…

“Lotor!” Pidge called, pointing towards the ground. 

He hesitated for a moment before getting to his knees, sulking all the while. Pidge clambered up easily onto his shoulders and in one swift moment they were off the ground, clawed fingers wrapped reflexively around the small paladin’s ankles. 

“Okay, first things first, let’s get that floating Altean plant down.” Walking over to the strange flora, Pidge was able to tug the plant down, its colorful array of leaves bobbing harmlessly down with her as she passed the potted plant to Lotor’s waiting hands. 

“Don’t fall off.” Lotor uttered as his only warning before he strode forward. Pidge let out a yelp, immediately tugging onto the ex prince’s hair to steady herself. 

Lotor grunted in pain, nearly dropping the plant. “Let go!” He hissed. Reflexively, Pidge obeyed, releasing her vice-grip on his long locks in favor of awkwardly clasping his shoulders.

“Give a warning before you start moving! I thought I was gonna fall backwards.” 

“I did. You didn’t listen.” Lotor replied coolly, placing the plant to where he assumed its resting place once was. He returned his hands to the paladin’s ankles. “Next time, watch your balance.” 

“Blah, blah, blah. I got it. We don’t have time to argue—let’s get that mirror down next.” 

Sure enough, in the center of the room was a floating dressing mirror, thankfully unbroken. Pidge reached up, bracing herself against Lotor as she tugged the mirror down, handing it to him. This time she was ready for him to walk forward. Lotor placed the mirror in the corner of the room, catching their reflection. They sure made for an odd pair, a vicious half-Galra and a paladin who mere months ago would have been sworn enemies. 

“Nice! High five, Lotor!” She grinned, dropping her hand down so quickly it nearly collided with his nose. The half-Galra sighed but followed suit, bringing one of his clawed hands up to smack the paladin’s, thankfully bringing it away from his face. 

The rest of the mission, as Pidge started to call it, went by easily. They pulled down Allura’s mattress, rug, slippers, and other miscellaneous items before coming to the final piece of furniture: a series of floating drawers, much too big for Pidge to pull down and too high up for Lotor to reach on his own. 

Hopping off his shoulders, Pidge activated her bayard, grinning all the while. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” The cable wrapped easily around the drawers and all it took was one strong tug to bring it down, collapsing onto the floor with a loud thud. Pidge wiped sweat from her brow, letting out a sigh of relief. “Phew, glad that’s over.” 

All of a sudden, a dark shadow from seemingly nowhere was cast over her. Gulping, she turned to see a certain angry ex prince looming over her, lips pulled into a tight frown. 

“Why did you ask for my help when you could have easily pulled down everything with your bayard?” 

Pidge scratched at the back of her head, giving a nervous laugh. “Ah, about that… I might have tricked you.” 

Lotor’s brows furrowed, a familiar coldness seeping into his veins. “What do you mean?” Here he was, the best tactician the Galra Empire had to offer, and he had been so easily tricked into performing humiliating, useless labor by a human. If Zarkon could see him now, he’d probably laugh himself into a coma. 

“Let’s just say that there’s a reason we didn’t run into anyone on our way here. Come on, I’ve got something to show you!” Without a chance to retort, Pidge grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the room. She was stronger than he gave her credit for, and while he could have easily kept her from dragging him around the castle, he allowed himself to be lead to wherever she desired. He wanted answers, after all. 

Pidge eventually stopped in front of the large doors that lead to the library of the ship, one of Lotor’s favorite places. Skeptically, he pushed open the doors, eyes widening at the sight. 

“Surprise!” The rest of the ship inhabitants cheered, revealing a table set up with food, drinks, and a chocolate cake of all things. 

“I-I don’t understand… what is this?” Stepping closer to the group, he caught sight of what was written on the cake: Happy Six Months of Not Being Evil! 

“Can’t you tell? We’re celebrating you, dude! We don’t know your birthday because you won’t tell us, but six months seems like a good milestone, doesn’t it? You’ve been a part of the coalition for half a year! Man, time flies!” Lance explained, patting Lotor’s back enthusiastically. 

Shiro stepped forward, clasping Lotor’s shoulder. “You’ve been a part of the team since the day you offered that peace treaty. It’s about time we make it official.”  
“Yeah, Coran even had another cool Voltron suit tailored for you. Hope you don’t mind that it’s white and purple.” Hunk explained, handing the still stunned man a piece of cake. 

“Yeah. Like everyone else said. I’m glad you’re a part of the team, Lotor.” Keith said, giving a rare smile. 

“I know we were skeptical at first, but I am truly glad that you are a part of the team, Lotor. Thank you for all your help so far.” Allura smiled sweetly, holding out a large wrapped box. “This is for you. As part of the coalition, we thought you might like a suit like the rest of the paladins. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to—I know there must be some sentimental value in your own Galra armor, but—“ 

“No. I will wear this with pride on the next mission. Thank you.” Lotor interrupted, voice barely above a whisper. With a slice of cake in one hand and the box in the other, he didn’t have the chance to resist when Matt jokingly called for a group hug. 

Pidge plucked the items out of his grip before the group descended upon him. 

“W-wait—“ 

“Nope, you can’t weasel your way out of this, Lotor. Come on, one group hug won’t kill you!” Lance stated, joining in on the hug. Everyone had at least a hand or shoulder wrapped around Lotor by the end of it, a tangle of limbs and laughs. Coran had even started sniffling. 

“You’ve grown so much since your first day on the ship, Lotor. I’m so proud of you!” Coran managed to say before devolving back into a blubbering mess. 

Lotor, for once, was speechless. A million thoughts raced through his head, a million things he wanted to say, wanted to communicate with his new ragtag group of misfits. 

Instead, he settled on closing his eyes, smiling, and hugging back tighter than he’d ever had before. And, if he did hear the shutter of a camera, he chose to ignore it—for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this chapter was worth the wait :D it's always fun to write about these space nerds!!


	5. Blindsided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor and Keith go on a routine mission. It ends up being far from routine.

It was supposed to be a routine mission—something so mundane that Voltron was unneeded. Only Lotor and Keith had been sent out to the distant planet, orbiting somewhere far out of the reach of the Galra Empire. 

Or so everyone believed. Despite the calculations and predictions that Pidge, Matt, and Hunk set as the Galra’s web of influence, the planet was hostile. 

Unbelievably hostile. 

“I’ll cover you!” Keith said, pointing his bayard in the direction of their biggest threat: some large weaponized robot, its lizard-like frame crushing the metal crates that were the only cover in the loading dock. Lotor nodded, maneuvering across the field towards the beast. 

He was a blur of white and purple, sidestepping out of the path of multiple laser beams in his approach. Keith called for his shield, following behind Lotor to deflect any attacks from behind. They had practiced this sort of routine in the training deck with the simulators, but this was completely different. In training, the robots had only a handful of possible moves, a set of predictable offensive and defensive actions that both men had all but memorized. The simulation took into account a flawless assault; the robots always looked for an opening, never wasting a single shot. 

Though formidable, their opponents were flawed. They didn’t act in a predictable pattern. It was sheer force and rage that fueled the inhabitants of the planet, apparently adopting the Galra’s way of battle. 

Keith was completely caught off guard when one soldier shot another, purposefully, to get to him. A searing white-hot pain bubbled against his side and it was only when he stuck a hand over the wound that he realized how quickly blood was seeping through his uniform. Keith bit back an agonized scream, using his last few moments of consciousness to rush forward and swing his bayard, successfully bisecting his opponent. 

He collapsed face-first with a groan, bayard deactivating as it slid uselessly out of his hand. His helmet too came off, leaving his sweat-soaked hair to fan and cover his face. Lotor turned at the sound, eyes widening in shock at the prone form of the red paladin. 

“Keith!” He yelled over the sound of laser pistols, an eerie sort of calm settling over his features when the paladin did not respond. Gripping his sword hard enough for the hilt to leave marks against his hand, Lotor rushed forward, galloping upon the lizard’s back to thrust the blade through the robot’s weak point. The sword wedged neatly between two plates resembling a vertebrate’s spinal cord. He twisted the weapon in deeper, cutting out enough wires to leave a trail of blue sparks in his wake. 

Lotor pulled the sword out and jumped back, rolling far away from the robotic beast. A mechanical roar echoed across the battlefield, followed by another series of sparks and then a loud explosion. Nearby combatants were melted away by the intensity of the flames as Lotor sprinted to cover Keith, pieces of scathing hot metal falling from the sky. 

Something hard fell upon his back but Lotor grinded his teeth to suppress the cry of pain that threatened to escape his throat. He could feel blood running down his spine, but he ignored it in favor of turning Keith over, brushing his hair out of his face. The paladin was bleeding profusely from a laser wound at his side while blood trickled from his temple, droplets falling like tears down his cheek. 

As soon as he moved him, Keith let out a soft groan. It was all the confirmation Lotor needed to carefully settle the paladin into his arms, dodging incoming lasers as he carried him back to his ship. Without a farewell glance to the awful planet, Lotor set his ship to autopilot, using the glowing beacon on his map as a waypoint to the castle of lions. 

Lotor removed his helmet, pushing the controls away to kneel beside Keith who was propped up in the seat. With no real medical background, all he knew to do was to press a clawed hand firmly to the wound. It was a difficult series of trial and error to apply the proper amount of pressure to slow the bleeding while also not puncturing the man with his sharp nails, but Lotor managed, sweat dripping down his brow. 

Killing was something Lotor was good at. Excellent, even. He learned how to murder and bludgeon and torture at a young age. He’d ended more lives with his hands, with the very nails that grew warm with Keith’s blood. Healing required just as much skill as killing—perhaps even more. With a desperation Lotor had only felt one time before, when he’d been betrayed and found himself driving his ship into a nearby star, he reached for Keith’s hand and squeezed it. 

…

“Move.” Lotor said, still holding the unconscious paladin in his arms. The entire population of the ship watched in horror as Lotor carried Keith to the healing pod. He made quick work of stripping the man down to his under-armor to better take stock of his injuries. What he found had him sucking in a harsh breath, carrying Keith into the open healing pod. 

“His injuries are grave. Princess Allura, set the pod up now. I must…” He trailed off, a sudden wave of vertigo causing him grab onto the nearest paladin for support. 

Shiro held him steady, concern etched in his features. “Lotor, are you alright? What happened?” 

Lotor pushed the paladin away weakly. “I’m fine. Do not worry about me.” 

“You don’t seem—“ Shiro paused mid-sentence, a horrible realization dawning upon him. The hand he had rested upon Lotor’s back was covered in blood. “You’re bleeding. Take off your armor, now.” His tone held no room for argument. 

Despite the number of people crowding him, Lotor obeyed, feeling weaker and more exposed than he’d ever felt before. Shakily, he tugged the outer armor off, allowing Shiro to pull up the black thermal under suit, revealing three sharp jagged lines of torn flesh. The skin was raised and burned, welts bursting open from the tug of fabric. 

A litany of shocked gasps and murmurs of disbelief were shared between the castle inhabitants as Lotor was near-forced into the pod beside Keith. 

“I’m fine. Galra heal faster than humans—this isn’t necessary. Focus on him, not me.” 

“Shut your quiznak, Lotor! You were burned! Skin is literally falling off you. Get in that pod right now.” Lance exclaimed, looking at the half-Galra with a mix of concern and exasperation. 

Hunk nodded in agreement. “Yeah dude, we can’t have you dying on us. I haven’t taught you how to cook anything yet and since you’re good at pretty much everything, I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly and then I won’t be the only one who has to cook on this ship!” 

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Hunk? Listen, you pointy purple alien, I may be small, but I won’t hesitate to throw you into the pod myself. One way or another, you’re gonna get healed.” 

“I think what everyone is trying to say is that we’re concerned for you, Lotor. Even if this wound is superficial to Galra, we don’t want any more harm to come to you. Please, enter the pod.” Allura said, already typing in the proper parameters for both healing pods. 

With Coran and Matt near the only exit in the room (as if he could overpower the both of them in his current state), Lotor hobbled into the pod, folding his arms over his chest. “Like I said, this is completely unnecessary, but your concern… is appreciated.” 

He closed his eyes and felt himself drift off into a painless, dreamless slumber. 

…

  
Lotor woke to the sound of his pod sliding open. Blinking in confusion, the half-Galra stepped forward before remembering who was beside him. He darted over to Keith’s pod, an unusual feeling of nervousness settling in his stomach. He fell to his knees, banging a fist against the pod.

There was no one. The pod was empty. 

“I… I failed. I failed him. I failed everyone.” Lotor murmured to himself, frozen is disbelief. 

He’d done everything right. He was on the good side now. Those recklessly foolish paladins had survived multiple encounters with his father and his army. How could Keith die from an insignificant laser blast? None of this was fair. Grief, for the first time since he learned the truth about his mother, nestled stubbornly in Lotor’s heart. 

He didn’t sign up for any of this. The Voltron coalition was supposed to be a pit stop on his way to glory, a means to an end, a group of people to manipulate and dispose of when they were no longer useful. He was to take possession of the lions and destroy his father with the very weapon he so coveted. None of this was supposed to happen. 

Almost blithely, Lotor wished he had perished upon that damnable star. At least then he wouldn’t have had to grow close to the paladins. Wouldn’t have to feel this pain. He had felt guilt after Narti’s death, but this was different. Keith was different. He was more of a comrade, someone he’d sparred and joked with, who trusted him despite their shared heritage (something that had made Lotor feel somewhat closer to Keith than the other paladins), who was young and didn’t deserve to die. The first real casualty of the Voltron coalition… 

Lotor swung his head around at the sound of the door opening. 

“Woah, Lotor, you’re awake? Hold on, I’ve got to tell the others—“ 

“Take me to Keith’s body. I need to pay my respects.” Lotor said, interrupting Lance. 

“What are you talking about, man? I can take you to Keith—he’s just chilling in the lounge.” 

Ignoring Lance’s dumbfounded expression, Lotor pushed past him and sprinted to the lounge, his wounds long-since healed. He halted to a stop in front of the dark-haired paladin, nearly scaring the man out of his wits since he was thoroughly engrossed in a novel. 

“Oh, you’re awake. We’ve got to tell the others,” Keith started, rising to stand.

Lotor, for the first time perhaps in his entire life, initiated a hug, crushing the man in a tight embrace. Keith slowly reciprocated, wrapping the other half-Galra in a hug, letting out a chuckle. 

“You’ve really become a hugger, huh?” 

“…Say anything about this to the others and I’ll make sure that during our training sessions you’ll wish you died upon that cursed planet.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Lotor.” Keith smiled, pulling away just as the rest of the paladins entered the room. 

“Lotor, you’re finally awake. Man, I thought I’d have to just get in and shake you at some point.” Hunk said, approaching Lotor to pat his shoulder. 

“You’ve saved Keith’s life twice now. You really are a hero.” Shiro grinned. 

“Your wounds were actually far worse than Keith’s. While he had lost a lot of blood, you had severe nerve damage. It’s a miracle you were able to walk or even carry Keith into the castle. We weren’t sure you were going to pull through, believe it or not.” Allura explained, moving to sit on the sofa beside Keith. 

The rest of the coalition devolved into a series of conversations, most regarding Lotor and his bravery. Through it all, Lotor felt his lips curling into the briefest of smiles. Everything had worked out, in the end. Though he would still need some time to get over the psychological trauma of thinking he had failed to save Keith’s life. 

At some point, Matt slipped away to add another photo to a large scrapbook. Titled _Memories of Voltron,_ he stuck a picture of Lotor and Keith hugging into the book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone!! sorry for how late this is ;-; once winter break hit, i got distracted by video games but hopefully i can still update at least once a month. anyway, hope that y'all enjoyed the angst and fluff fest and as usual, thank u so much for the support so far! u guys are all peaches ;3c
> 
> also p.s. yes i do think lotor would be this dramatic and assume the worst. poor lotor, he's really dealing with friendship hard lmao


End file.
